Something Like Snow White
by Wings Of Sanguine
Summary: Strangers in distress have begun showing up in Story Brooke, boasting innumerable amounts of alien technology. They in turn are surprised by the magic of the small town, but things take a wrong turn when Emma realizes that this group is hiding more than just sci-fi horror stories and one of them shows up dead in the woods. (DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN OUAT OR TORCHWOOD OR CHARACTERS)
1. Chapter 1

Owen Harper blinked, his eyelids turning a bright red as sunlight passed through. He could feel a rather sharp vertical object digging into his back, although he didn't feel anything after it. No pan, no ripping of the kind. Blinking, he turned his head to either side, his cheek hanging on his shoulder each time.

Weird.

He tried again. Each time there was no support, his face falling to his shoulder, which seemed to be hunted so far up that the bone prodded his earlobes.

Again, weird. A light breeze tickled his skin, and he could feel gooseflesh break out on the surface. he shivered, feeling the cool of metal burrow into his skin. As his senses began to creep back to him, he was able to feel a rough frayed material on his wrists and ankles tethering him to the pole.

A rope, Owen realized, as he tried puling against it in hopes of the pieces coming undone. His attempts were in vain, as the ropes tightened even further, digging into his skin. A chill ran down his spine as the wind came by again, blowing through the trees, rustling their green canopies. Looking down as best he could (a rope had also been lashed across his throat and chest for good measure), he realized he wasn't wearing a coat.

Or any clothes, for that matter.

Rolling his eyes, he licked his lips. It was just like him, to get into such a situation. Of course, he wasn't exactly sure _how_ he had gotten himself in such a predicament, but he was sure about one thing: it was freezing and someone was going to get their ass kicked once he was free.

Of course, an ass-whooping could only take place if he could remember where his team-mates went, and how he had gotten into such a predicament in the first place.

The crunch of leaves caught his attention, and he snapped his head in the direction of the sound, gritting his teeth as he heard voices. Muttering a curse, he wriggled his head side to side, trying his best to see as much s possible, but with no luck. The rope was cutting into his trachea, an due felt the frayed edges burn against his skin. He froze as the voice seemed to get louder, although it was still faint.

"Be careful not to fall, okay kid?" called a woman's voice.

"Yeah, okay!" was a little boy's response. From the sound of it, he was probably in elementary school, around fifth grade, possibly in his first year of middd school, but that was probably pushing it. Owen pulled against the bond on his wrist- his hands had (thankfully) been tied so they were resting over his crotch, leaving much to be desired.

Of course, he really wasn't in a position to complain, was he?

The voices were closer now, and Owen thought he could see the top of a woman's head over the horizon, blond hair standing out against the green sea of vegetation. Looking around, he felt sweat prick his skin, along with a new set of goosebumps as another brisk wind chilled the air.

"Hey, Emma!" he heard the boy call, "What time is it?"

A pause. "It's like, five thirty, why?"

"Five thirty…?" Owen breathed to himself, licking his lips. He was really hoping this kid didn't find him, all exposed like this. It was just nasty- not something a child should be subjected to at such an hour. Or ever, for that matter.

Owen watched the woman's blond hair bob in and out of his vision- dots of color had invaded the corners of his eyes, and the trees around him were starting to get a bit hazy. Blinking, Owen opened is mouth to take in a good lungful of air, only to have his lungs set aflame, a searing heat coursing through his body.

_Shit!_ he thought, opening and closing his mouth in vain attempts to breathe. To an outsider, he probably looked like a fish out of water, as he tried to lean his head back, give the rope some slack.

It was no use. Soon his peripheral vision was almost black, and a faint image flashed before him.

"Henry, stop!"

_So they found me…._ Owen couldn't help but chastise himself as his lungs gave out completely, and he lolled his head to the side just as everything was swallowed by darkness.


	2. Chapter 2

Emma pulled Henry back just in time, holding him close to her chest in an attempt to protect him from the cold.

Well, that, as well as the man who was in front of them.

Tied naked to a pole, his hands over his privates, as if that made it any better. Henry glanced up at her, casting his gaze down at the ground. Emma sighed, thankful for the action. Carefully, she released her son, taking a hesitant step forward.

"Henry, just stay there," she ordered the boy, and he nodded, keeping his gaze averted. Emma turned back to face the man, leaves crunching under her brown leather boots. Pursing her lips, she cleared her throat, calling out, "Sir?"

No answer.

"S-sir…?" she tried again, muttering a curse at how shaky her voice sounded. Turning, Emma stole a glance at Henry. He was still looking down, his green backpack slung over his shoulder. A whistle rang in her ears as the wind blew through, playing in the trees.

Emma turned back to the man, her eyes scanning him tentatively. His skin was ghostly pale, an almost pallid gray color. As she got closer, she could see bruises lining his neck and chest. Some were purple, others were yellow, healing and fading into his skin. Ropes around his chest, neck and ankles kept him upright, while another helped him protect his manhood. His black hair was messy, and something was matted in the layers, drying into a crumbled state.

"Sir, are you alright?" Emma said once more, strong and authoritative.

Still no answer. Emma was now up close to the man, able to examine every freckle and marking in his skin, how his lips were somewhat like a frog's, and his hair colored as black as ebony.

"Just like Snow White…" she murmured, eyeing him carefully. With his skin such a pallid color, she wasn't sure of he was breathing- nor did she want to find out. Touching anything that looked dead always gave her goosebumps, which was ironic, since she had handled the Katherine Nolan case a while back, what, with the human heart in the box and all.

"Emma, can I look up now?" Henry's voice broke through her thoughts, and she whirled her head around to see him looking up anyway, eyes widening with shock and awe. Cursing under her breath, Emma took out her cell phone as she tried shielding Henry's eyes again to no avail. He had dodged her feeble attempt in protecting him and was approaching the body, cocking his head at the bruises and lacerations on the man's body.

"He looks kinda like Snow White, huh?" he asked, and Emma faltered with her answer.

"I don't know how Mary Margaret would feel about that," she tried joking, but she knew it wasn't really the time. As she inspected the body, she realized that the crumbling material in his hair was blood.

If it was dried like she had seen it, then he was hanging up here for a very long time.

"Henry, get away from there, okay?" Emma beckoned Henry to abandon the body, and he obliged, stumbling backwards as he tripped over hidden tree roots, shrugging his backpack straps higher up on his shoulders. Emma pulled his coat tighter around his person as the and played with their hair, nipping at their cheeks and noses. Clenching her fingers around her phone, she pressed a few numbers, the metal and plastic cool against her cheek as she held the device to her ear.

"Are you calling David?" Henry asked. For a while now, David Nolan was acting as a sort of sheriff alongside her, helping solve a few cases here and there after Graham had died. Just thinking about the former sheriff made Emma want to cry, but she knew there wasn't a reason to linger on the past. _Besides_, she thought, _I've got Killian now, and David's doing a good job of helping out. _She jiggled her foot nervously as she listened to the phone ring on the other end, her eyes flitting back and forth to the man strung up like a puppet. Henry had given up on gawking at him, now he was sitting in the dirt, rummaging noisily through his backpack. Emma could see papers strewn loosely around inside the bag, and it made her wonder how he managed to do his homework and not lose it too.

"Hello?" came David's voice, and Emma nearly groaned with relief- it had gotten colder, and she wasn't sure how much longer she wanted to look at a possible receiver crackled with static as she spoke almost rapidly, hearing the faint scratch of pencil on paper as Henry started writing in one of his boac marble notebooks.

"Hey, uh, we have a situation," Emma gulped, pushing her hair out of her face.

"A hello would have sufficed, but what kind of situation are we talking about?" David asked, "Theft? Mugging? What?" The wind was playing with the man's hair, and Emma swore his lips had turned a darker shade of purple, almost black as she kept an eye on him.

She probably should have taken him down and wrapped him up in bundles of blankets, now that she was hinting about it.

Grunting, Emma replied, "Um, I was with Henry in the woods- we're still in the woods, actually- but uh, we came across-"

"Oh, you're with Henry? Mary Margaret said he was doing really well in class and-"

"David!" Emma snapped, catching Henry's attention. He looked up from his work to eye her curiously, waiting until she continued talking to look back down, "We found a body, okay? We're standing right in front of it and I don't know what t-"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" David cut her off, his voice cracking, "A body?"

Emma nodded, "Yeah, and it's really freaking me out the longer I look at it."

"Alright, uh…" Emma could practically hear David thinking, the grinding of the gears in his brain as he tried to asses the situation as calmly as possible, "Is there blood?" Emma shook her head. Aside from the bits in the man's hair, there was none. She told him so.

"I also tried talking to him," Emma added, her breath forming white clouds as she breathed out, like smoke from a dragon. "He isn't answering, It's very likely he's unconscious or already dead."

"Just don't touch it, whatever you do," Emma could hear the scraping of a chair in the background along with the banging of a door, "I'll be right there, just keep Henry away from the evidence."

Emma nodded, hearing the dial tone on the other end as David had hung up the phone. Shivering, she slowly crouched down next to Henry, her eyes flicking to the page he was writing on. "What's that? One of Mary Margaret's art assignments?" Henry shook his head, lifting his head every few seconds to examine something.

"Nah, I'm just drawing it so we can remember." was the boy's answer, and it took Emma a minute to process what he meant exactly by "it."

He was drawing the body.

Henry was trying to remember what the body looked like, that was sitting in front of them, she realized, with pale skin and black hair. Her mind automatically went to Henry's storybook- a large, leather-bound book with gold lettering on the cover, with the same color stitching on the border.

"Henry, I don't think you should do that," Emma said as she watched him erase a few lines, then shakily draw them back in. She could make out what was supposed to look like the head, leading down to the torso and arms, then the legs. The feet were awkwardly done, with no distinction of where the man's feet ended and his toes began. You really couldn't expect a masterpiece from a middle school student though, now could you?

Sighing, she let Henry draw, hoping that David reached them quickly.


	3. Chapter 3

Belle was at first confused when she saw the woman running down the street, pausing as she went to unlock the library door. From afar, it looked like she was simply out for a morning jog. A few minutes later, when she had come closer, it looked as if she was limping, in a hurry to get somewhere.

Now, as she struggled to run past, she realized the woman was running for dear life. Belle nearly dropped the key as the woman charged past her, staring at Granny's Diner that rested across the street. Belle could see Ruby outside serving a few contraction workers, so she had to have noticed, right?

Unfortunately, the young waitress was focused on serving beer instead, and Belle quickly unlocked the library and slide through the door, flipping the sign that hung in the frame so it said "Open." Going to the window, she pulled down the blinds.

The woman was halfway down the block, looking frantically this way and that. A car zooming past made her jump, and Belle felt her heart flutter as she watched her jump out of the way just in time to avoid getting hit. Sighing, she went outside again, her heels clicking on the pavement as she walked briskly down the block.

"Hey, Belle!" Belle stopped in her tracks, turning to see Ruby waving at her from across the street. She was wearing her usual waitressing getup: incredibly small red shorts with a white button dan shirt, tied at the bottom to showcase a flat stomach along with a pair of long legs. Belle hesitated as she returned the sentiment, instantly regretting having come outside as a wind chilled the air.

"Hiya…. Ruby!" she said awkwardly, trying to watch the woman out of the corner of her eye. She had stopped, turning in circles as she tried assessing her surroundings. Her arms were behind her back, as if she had her hands clasped behind her. Nodding towards Ruby, Belle slowly approached the woman, and as she got closer, she could see a lavender sweatshirt falling down her arms to reveal tanned shoulders, the front zipped haphazardly up halfway. She wore a matching tank top underneath that was stained with dirt, and her blue jeans had red spatters on them. Belle eyed them curiously, unable to tell if it was blood or not.

"Excuse me," she called out, and she jumped as the woman nearly lurched in her direction. Her black hair was falling out of her ponytail, bangs plastered to her forehead with sweat. The librarian could make out a cut on her lower lip, and her brown eyes were glazed over with fear.

Overall the woman looked like a deer in headlights, looking death in the face.

"Miss, are you alright?" Belle asked gently, holding a hand out to her. The woman simply flitted her gaze from Belle's hand to her face, chest heaving as she panted like a dog. Licking her lips, Belle tree again, "Miss, is something wrong? Are you okay?"

There was the slightest shake of her head as the woman backed away, tripping over her own feet. There was a loud thud as she crashed to the pavement, using her feet to scuttle backwards as Belle reached down to help her.

"Wait-!" Belle ordered, and the womb froze, letting her head fall back onto the blacktop of the street. Looking around, Belle felt her heart pounding so hard it may as well have jumped out of her ribcage. Her temples were pounding. No one was outside, and she saw Ruby had gone back into the diner, leaving the group she was serving to eat their meals. Inching closer, she got down on her knees, the gravel digging into her skin, leaving little dents and scratches. "Miss, please," she pleaded, "Let me help you."

The wind blew by as they stared at one another, and Belle did all she could to repress a gasp as the woman's hair was blown away from her face, revealing a large gash that began at her hairline and ended at her temple, crimson trickling in rivers down her cheek.

"Oh my god…." Belle trailed off, "Who did this to you…?"

The woman shook her head vigorously, "Ianto…" Belle raised an eyebrow in confusion, scooting closer. The woman tensed up, but made no move to flee. _Good_, Belle thought, _she's probably calmed somewhat. _

"Ianto?" she echoed, the name sounding foreign on her tongue, "Did this… _Ianto_ person do this to you?" The woman shook her head, swallowing, her throat bobbing.

"N-No!" she suddenly yelled, her eyes tearing at the corners, making small rivers in the muck on her face, "Ianto is my friend! Where's Ianto?!" Belle felt herself freeze, unsure of what to do as the woman hung her head in her lap, shoulders wracked with sobs as she repaid her friend's name, crying out hysterically, "Where is he?! Please, where is he?!"

Belle sputtered, feeling her hands begin to tremble, "I-I'm sorry- I don't know!" Apparently this was not the answer the woman was poking for, as she forced herself to her knees, slowly getting up to her feet. "What are you doing?!"

The woman's glare threw daggers at the librarian, her eyes cold and desperate as she sent a trail of ed to the ground. Blood, Belle realized, and she recoiled slightly, the gravel biting into the skin of her legs and thighs sitting on the blacktop. She squinted as she looked up at the woman, the sun creating a halo around her disarray of black hair.

"I'm going….." the woman panted, chest heaving, "… to look for my….. friends…." Belle gasped and sputtered out a reply as best she could as she watched the woman hobble and lurch down the street, the fact that she was in no position to do either of those things quite obvious. Gritting her teeth, belle pushed herself up, ankles aching as she ran after her, heels clicking on the blacktop, "Wait!"

The woman eyed her curiously as she caught up, Belle saying, "If you're rue you want to, I'll help you find them." The woman considered the offer before nodding gravely.

"Alright then," she said, her voice lilting with a faint British accent, "if you insist." Belle nodded, raising a hand.

"I do insist," Belle nodded, "but first, we need to get you cleaned up."


End file.
